Original subtitles

Oh, it tastes like fish eggs.

I think they are, Einstein.

And it tops out at $200 an ounce.

You two really think you can crash this party?

- Yes. - We're kind of ambitious.

- Are you gonna kick us out, bro? - Depends.

Are you pompous jackasses?

Uh, well, we're not... pompous.

Help yourself.

Mmm, the taste kind of grows on you.

You wanna get down on this? Pull up a stool.

Uh, you do that. I'm gonna find the alcohol.

Genius! And grab me a beer!

It's not a cabin cruiser, it's a yacht.

For the $24,000 we're paying Dalton,

I would expect Jackson's modern dance to be included.

I like the way the Jets are playing this year.

- Excuse me. - It's time to go.

- No, I'm just looking for... - You found it.

Come on.

He's with me.

Excuse me.

Sync and corrections by explosiveskull Resync by GoldenBeard www.addic7ed.com

Mmm! German beer. Tastes like piss.

What the hell are you doing here?

You've never been hard to find.

That's not what I asked.

At least your furniture's improved.

Kinda liked my old futon.

I liked breaking it in.

Nice place.

Too bad about the clothes, though.

Why are you here?

Would you believe it if I said I missed you?

- No. - Smart man.

Columbia education really paid off.

No thanks to you.

I'm in New York for a meeting. I thought I'd pop by.

Well, you're not staying here, so...

Fine.

My penthouse in midtown will just have to do, then.

We spent some nights there.

Look, if you came here to walk down memory lane,

- I don't really have the... - I'm sorry.

I've spent years trying to convince myself that things happen for a reason,

that you and I were not meant to be.

But I know now. That wasn't fate.

It was a choice.

My choice.

And I'm sorry.

I'm alone in the world, Matthew.

Do you know what that feels like?

Of course you do.

And you know what it's like to clean up your father's messes.

A long time ago, before he died,

my father did business with the Roxxon Corporation.

Roxxon?

Energy, cleaning supplies, macaroni and cheese.

Child labor, slave trade.

They have their fingers in everything.

I believe it's called diversification.

And thanks to my father's shitty investments,

they hold most of his wealth.

Yeah, okay, I...

I have a meeting tomorrow with the board at the Yakatomi Building.

And I need your help, Matthew.

How am I supposed to help you?

I want you to use that expensive legal training of yours

- to help me get my money back. - See, I'm a defense lawyer.

- I'll pay you well. - I'm not taking your money.

And, even if I accepted, there's not enough time.

- For what? - Oh, just research.

Accounts, shareholders, hierarchy of the...

- You have 15 hours. - Fifteen hours, Elektra, are you insane?

Matthew.

You're the only person I can trust.

Well, sweetheart, you don't break into my house and then talk to me about trust.

Don't overthink it.

It's just a bunch of guys in business suits.

They won't know what hit them.

Would be fun, like old times.

Oh, you and I, we have very different ideas of fun.

You can say whatever you want.

- But I know you... - No, you don't.

You don't, not anymore.

Not... ever again.

Well...

that's disappointing.

Get out.

Morning.

We, uh, have anything for breakfast?

You hungry or hungover?

Both.

All right, you need some potassium, some electrolytes, and a jolt of caffeine.

I'll give you, uh...

The last piece of Mrs. DiNizio's peach cobbler,

which is the last piece of anything in this office.

I guess our finances haven't improved since last week.

Yeah, well, clients don't respond well to a "closed" sign.

Yeah, it's my fault.

- I'm sorry, Foggy. - Don't be.

Punisher off the street.

I'm hoping Reyes will get her jackboot off our neck

and this office can go back to normal.

Oh, yeah? Normal? What's that?

Matt. Uh, good morning.

Hey, Karen.

Did you sleep well?

Uh, not so much. You?

Me? Yeah, sure.

I mean...

Is that coffee I can smell?

- Hmm? - Coffee.

Uh, yeah, um...

Yeah, arabica for all.

- For everyone. - Wow, thank you. You're a goddess.

Okay, you two. Let's talk business.

Potential clients. Real ones. With bank in the bank.

Uh, actually, yeah, can we, uh... talk about these first?

The, uh, press is still painting Castle

like he's nothing more than some deranged lunatic.

Well, it's not like our boy was out collecting for the Red Cross.

- I know. I know, but... - You think there's more to the story.

Exactly. I mean, five different papers

and not a word about the bullet he took to the brain,

or his military record, or his family.

Uh, his family?

Um...

Okay, uh...

I found this photograph.

It's of him and his wife and kids at the carousel.

You found it where?

I sort of broke into his house.

- You did what? - What?

- It was ill-advised, I know. - Not to mention dangerous.

- And illegal. - Yeah...

It's all that. All of that.

And I don't need a lecture or I will take those coffees back, okay?

Thank you.

Look, it's not just about the press.

The DA's office released their statement and it's full of holes, too.

Something big is going on here, guys, and it all circles back to Frank Castle.

- Oh, no, no, no... - Foggy...

No, come on, we successfully dodged a metaphorical bullet

and quite a few literal ones.

We need to be done with the crazy, guys.

We need normal.

I'm sorry.

I'm really sorry if I...

- I pushed it too far. - It's okay.

I just...

Uh, I don't think you're wrong about Castle, but...

it's really simple, Karen.

Just... I don't want you to get hurt.

So, uh...

Last night.

Last night?

I don't... What happened last night?

- At Josie's? With Foggy? - You...

- Did something happen? - Yeah.

- Anything else? I don't... - Yeah?

Yeah, it was great.

And I like to think I can do better, if we're still on for dinner.

Uh, yeah.

It's a date.

Holy shit!

- That was the bank. - Oh, no.

No, it's... all good. There was a deposit.

A big one.

What? Uh...

Um, yeah...

Yeah, uh, do me a favor, don't spend any of it.

- Why not? - God...

I was hit up by a potential client yesterday, so, I just...

Is it dirty money? Are we doing that again?

No! No, it's nothing like that. It's just, um...

I'm not sure it's gonna work out, let me...

Let me get into it, I'll... I'll get back to you.

Hey, I'm gonna have a Macallan, neat, and the lady will have, uh...

another vodka martini.

- Perceptive. - Thank you, I try.

But I can order my own drinks.

Tequila. Mezcal, if you have it.

So, thanks for your help.

It's hard to find reliable security these days.

Nice shoes.

What?

Wingtips. Good call. Shine them yourself?

How'd you know?

You're not exactly a tough read.

I...

could surprise you.

Doubt it.

All right.

You, uh, wanna give it a try?

Okay.

You desperately want to belong somewhere...

with someone,

which is the real reason why you sneak into fancy faculty parties.

Not because you're sick of your ramen

and video games routine.

And now, your mind is racing.

You're wondering what you can possibly say or do to keep me on the line,

because the last thing you want is to spend the rest of the evening

with that scotch and that shaggy-haired friend of yours.

You know what your problem is?

You're pretty.

You even work the blind thing.

But you're dumb.

You lost before you even stepped to the plate.

You get all of that from a pair of old wingtips?

Quick study.

- You wanna know what I think? - Tell me.

I think the game's just beginning.

Because despite your artisan tequilas

and charm-school manners...

Despite being richer than God and having the whole world at your fingertips...

you're just bored.

Really?

Bored enough to spend your time studying a stranger's shoes.

See, I think you were dying on the vine of this tight-ass party,

because Daddy's money can't buy you the one thing you really need.

And what's that?

The unexpected.

Maybe you're not so dumb.

Elektra Natchios.

Matt Murdock.

Let's go, Matthew.

On your left.

Do you like it?

Sounds expensive.

You have good ears.

- Is it yours? - It is.

Until we get caught.

Mr. Tower?

Uh, I wish you'd called. I'd have set something up.

- Are they in? - Uh, just the Nelson half.

What's the problem?

We need to talk.

In private.

You know, it's really not a good idea to piss her off.

So, what can I do for the Assistant District Attorney?

It's more what I can do for you, Mr. Nelson.

We need all your files on the Grote case.

Notes, interviews, any and all recordings and e-mails.

And in return, we get...

I convince District Attorney Reyes

to scratch the names Nelson and Murdock off her shit-list.

Wow.

There's an actual list?

- Mr. Nelson, I... - I'm sorry.

Believe me, the sooner this Punisher mess is off our plate, the better.

So... show me a subpoena, and...

Is there a problem?

Are you really going to make me jump through hoops for this?

Trust me, there's nothing I'd rather do more than cooperate with your office.

But a legal firm sharing privileged communications with a client,

I mean, even a deceased one, without a court order?

I've seen lawyers get disbarred for less.

And I don't know about you, but I worked really hard for my law degree.

Nights and everything.

Reyes...

she staked all her political chips on the conviction of this Punisher freak.

Now, if things'll go her way,

there'll be an opening in the District Attorney's office

in the not-so-distant future.

And DA Tower has a nice ring to it.

Now, I'd start considering the benefits that could accrue

if your firm were more...

cooperative.

Like I said...

show me a subpoena, and I'll cooperate like a son of a bitch.

Reyes is gonna roll over you like a tank.

You keep saying that.

And yet...

still kinda here.

I'm gonna have to pay for that.

I'll stake you.

So this is the famous Fogwell's.

Yeah, breathe it in fast.

If we get arrested for breaking and entering, the fun kinda stops.

Shows what you know.

I haven't been here in a while.

I bet nothing's moved.

- Thanks. - So tell me.

- How does a blind man box? - Oh, uh...

I don't... I can't.

My dad, he was the boxer.

Was?

Yeah, he died.

I'm sorry.

I just come here to... breathe in the smell of sweat.

Hear the clank of the chains holding the bags.

Remember him.

You never saw your father fight.

Oh, I saw him get his ass beat more times than I can count.

I wasn't born blind. That's a...

whole other story.

Did he die in the ring?

Uh...

No, boxing didn't kill him.

What did?

Organized crime.

Like a mob hit?

- Was he a criminal? - No.

But I guess you could say he rubbed some people the wrong way.

Someone in particular?

Uh, yeah.

A guy named Roscoe Sweeney.

I don't know if he pulled the trigger, but he gave the order.

Did you ever try to find that piece of shit?

Yeah, once. When I was a kid.

Got nothing. Learned to live with it.

He probably went underground.

Well, six feet, I hope.

You don't have to feel sorry for me.

I don't.

Are you sure?

Yes.

I've seen it.

Here and there, over the past few weeks.

You're so much more than you let on.

Okay.

I feel like I've told you more in the last ten minutes

than I've told anyone else in ten years.

Ha!

I knew it.

You knew what?

You said you were blind.

No, you said I was blind.

So you can see?

It's complicated.

What about you? You said you took ballet lessons.

I did.

In the winters,

when my capoeira master returned to Angola.

Muay Thai?

- Every other Thursday. - Of course.

You got me.

Get me back.

Get me!

I win.

Yeah, first round, maybe.

We're just getting started.

Ms. Natchios, good afternoon.

Good afternoon. You can sit.

We hope you know how valuable your business is

to the Roxxon Corporation.

Thank you.

This is Stan Gibson. He's the money man for our Japanese arm.

So, he'll have the answers you're looking for.

Whether or not he can put them in terms you'll understand

is another matter.

Let's all prepare to be dazzled, shall we?

- Excuse me, uh, Mr. Ellison? - Yeah?

Sorry, I don't mean to interrupt. My name is Karen Page.

- I was a friend of... - Ben.

Yeah, I remember.

Look, I think that I owe you an apology.

- At the funeral, I thought that you... - Forget it.

Look, Ben...

Ben was a real pain in my ass.

So it follows that his friends would be, too.

What can I do for you?

Well, I don't think you're gonna like my answer.

I'd like to talk to you about the Frank Castle article.

- I know, terrifying. - Also inaccurate.

Look...

that article was corroborated by multiple sources.

NYPD, DA's office, we even had some eyewitnesses.

Yes, everything that you reported is correct.

It's what you haven't reported that bothers me.

The article is inaccurate by omission.

Okay, come here, come here.

Excuse me, please.

Go.

Right, did you know that two years ago, Lieutenant Frank Castle

was awarded the Navy Cross for his service in Afghanistan, right?

That's second only to the Medal of Honor.

This guy is a war hero.

Military history is the first thing we search

whenever there's a mass shooting.

So, we know that he was a Marine recruit, and we know that he went in as a kid,

but there's no evidence that he actually served.

I've seen the medal,

engraved with Castle's name,

next to a photograph of him shaking the secretary's hand.

Are you suggesting that his work was classified?

I don't know, but... but I would assume.

Don't assume. Where'd you see it?

Uh, not important.

Pretty important.

Look, your article also states that he had no known relatives,

but every paper in New York says that.

Well, that was in the press briefing issued by the DA's office.

He had a family.

He had a wife, Maria Elizabeth, a daughter, Lisa Barbara,

and a son, Frank Junior.

- Had? - All dead.

Killed around the same time that Castle was hospitalized

for a gunshot wound to the head.

What, so...

What, you're saying that he murdered his family and then shot himself?

Some sort of PTSD murder-suicide attempt?

No, see, if that's what had happened,

the DA would have put it in her brief,

in flashing neon if she could,

because that supports her story that he's a psychopath.

So, what do you think really happened?

That's what I don't know yet.

But if I could dig through your files or I could check into your back issues,

maybe I could figure it out.

And anything that I find, anything that I can prove...

The Bulletin gets the exclusive.

Deal.

Okay, deal.

Uh-uh... don't do any somersaults yet.

All the, uh...

All the servers were completely wiped in the incident.

Decades, just...

gone.

So, um, we keep hard copies of everything now.

Jeez! Are they in any kind of order?

Um, you know, roughly.

I would... I would start, uh, down here.

- Okay. Uh, thanks. - Uh-huh.

- What? - Oh...

Uh, nothing, I'm just thinking, uh, somewhere...

Ben Urich is looking down, and just...

getting a real kick out of all this.

Have fun.

I'm sure you all have places to be, things to do.

With your wives, your mistresses...

But I have questions.

And this subsidiary, what is it exactly?

- A medical company. - And they do?

- Studies. - How specific.

Research for pain relievers, treatments for diseases.

The names of which I mostly can't pronounce.

How do you determine your acquisitions?

Well...

Excuse me.

There's an issue with our server.

Someone has hacked into the server.

Possibly internal, we don't know yet, security is looking into it.

If it's an external threat, I'm sure they can trace the IP address

and deal with the "problem" face-to-face.

But I'm more concerned about what information

they can pull from Roxxon's system when it is offline.

I'm terribly sorry, something has come up.

Could we reconvene at another time?

Absolutely.

Thank you.

I'll have someone escort you downstairs.

Thank you.

In this city, a girl needs all the help she can get.

Why is it gray?

One of life's mysteries.

They were out of olives.

So?

So...

What?

It was a hard day.

I thought we could catch up, you know, have a drink.

Just...

be like we were.

Normal.

I haven't heard from you in months.

Well, that's...

not all that abnormal, right?

Yeah, I guess you're right.

Let's get trashed and tell each other our sob stories. You first.

Matt's dating our office assistant.

The cute one? Blonde, totally your type?

- Yeah. - Mmm.

The correct answer is,

"No one is as perfect for me as you, Marci."

Gets worse.

We lost two clients in the last hour.

Oh, it's kinda like when I lost the job at Landman and Zack.

- Thank God HC and B was hiring. - No, I'm serious.

It's the DA.

I called her bluff on a case she's building against the Punisher

and she doubled down.

She's coming after us.

I see.

You didn't call me for a social drink.

You called me for help.

That feels more normal.

Fine.

Rumors among my new partners?

Reyes has her sights on the mayor's office.

This is my shocked face.

And she aims to do so by...

building a platform on Frank Castle's conviction.

She gets him...

she sets precedent against these other vigilantes popping up.

One in our office is already under serious scrutiny,

lady by the name of Jessica Jones.

Oh, and you know who I bet is next?

The horny one.

It's... Daredevil.

You think it'll work?

She's gonna turn city-wide disaster into damn fine lemonade.

It's her big power play.

It's gonna work.

- Hey. - Hey.

It's been... whoa, three hours.

Oh, God.

And I'm almost late for dinner.

- Thanks. - Any luck?

Well, these are all the papers from the week that Castle was shot.

I've been through each one of them three times,

and there's not a single mention of Castle, his family...

Not even a John Doe that matches.

Just nothing.

Well, you know, people are shot every day.

It doesn't always make the paper.

Cleavered Cleavers.

What's that?

Ah, just an old newspaper adage, right?

If horror befalls a family you can paint as all-American,

it makes the front page.

So, if the Castles are not in this paper,

it's because somebody wants to keep it quiet.

Well, shit.

April 14th.

When was the Castle family murdered?

Well, I figure it's gotta be sometime that week, right?

You know, I cannot remember my... my kids' birthdays, but...

violent, soul-sucking events are just seared into my brain.

Figures, right?

Ah, yes, yes.

Okay, gang-on-gang violence.

No civilians were reported injured, so nobody cared.

It took me a week to get this in the paper.

Here.

Three gangs, Central Park, mid-day.

They shot each other to shit. It was a total massacre.

Mexican Cartel, Dogs of Hell...

- Kitchen Irish. - ...Kitchen Irish.

- Those were all the three... - That the Punisher gunned down.

- There's gotta be a connection, right? - Mmm-hmm. Right.

- Oh, my God. - What?

Oh, my God.

This is it.

This is where his family was killed.

Shit, what do I do now?

Confirm it.

- Can I borrow this? - Yeah, sure.

Just a little reminder...

Bulletin gets the exclusive, right?

- You got it, boss. - Wait, you're going now?

Really?

Do you drink wine?

I should know that.

I don't drink anything they don't serve at Josie's.

Yeah, well, I don't see swill on the menu.

- So how was... - So what did...

- I'm sorry... - I was just gonna...

Uh, you go ahead. Go, go first.

How was your day?

Fine.

Uh, yeah, just a regular day at the office.

Well, it's a nice change of pace, right?

Not being shot at?

- That's gotta feel good. - Yeah.

You, how's the, uh, new client?

Uh, yeah, um...

Nothing I haven't seen before.

I seriously doubt it's gonna pan out, but that's...

That's fine.

Okay, good.

Well, that covers work.

Uh, well, it's a start.

- Um, I'll be back in just a minute, um... - Yeah.

- Order something fantastic. - Sure.

- Sir? - Look.

If I had to seem like I knew everything there is to know about wines

in the next 60 seconds, what would I... what would I order?

- Matthew Murdock? - Yeah.

You have a call.

Oh, thanks.

This is Murdock.

Sorry to bother you while you're out,

but you have a few moments before she returns, right?

What do you want from me?

You should ask yourself the same question.

That rooftop act was cute.

Yeah, nothing compared to your damsel-in-distress one.

Oh, you're right. I didn't actually need you.

I told you, maybe I just missed you.

But don't worry, you can keep the money.

Aw...

Go to hell.

If you really want to be done, consider this me firing you.

Any time you want to drive...

I think it's illegal, driving under the influence of blindness.

You're the future lawyer.

Yeah, I should start going to class again, then.

- Hey, where are we? - A house.

Yeah. Is it yours?

Oh, God, no. I'd die in the suburbs.

No, this charming little chateau

belongs to one of my father's many work associates,

who's currently off to Monte Carlo, where prostitution is legal.

So...

you have the keys, right?

Welcome home, darling. Dinner's almost ready.

- Tiny kitchen. - Mmm-hmm.

Okay, so we have, uh...

truffles, saucissons, cornichons...

- Baby pickles. - No.

- Ugh! - Okay, got it.

No cornichons.

So...

- when you graduate... - Mmm-hmm.

- ...and we get married... - Wow.

...and we buy a house... I mean, houses, sorry.

Santorini, San Sebastian...

Paris, for when we're feeling cosmopolitan.

This...

is how we'll live.

And what about the kids?

What are we gonna do with them?

Oh, you know, sweet little Ellie, and...

her simpleton brother, Matty Junior...

...can cook and clean

and stock the fridge for us, so we can use...

our time doing better things.

Like sex?

Exactly like sex.

Who's thirsty?

- Hey. - Mmm?

- Is it good? - What?

This.

All of this, this, uh...

life.

It's fantastic.

But I would trade it all in for a lifetime of smelling your skin.

Cheers.

- Sounded expensive. - I'm guessing.

I don't care.

Get me?

I do, I get you.

When are you going to learn?

Get me.

I have learned.

You know me.

Like no one else ever has. And I know you.

We belong together.

Someone's here.

Daddy's friend probably ran out of Viagra...

Shh...

They're footsteps. Moving fast. Let me go check.

No, no, no, no, no. You stay here.

If I explain everything, he won't be mad.

I promise.

Matthew, you remember Roscoe Sweeney,

the son of a bitch who killed your father?

Hey.

- Hey. - Everything okay?

- Yeah, they ran out of wine. - No.

Wait, seriously?

Matt...

I don't... I don't like this place, you know?

Is it the place? Or is it...

It's definitely not you.

- You're sure? - Yeah.

I'm positive.

Come on. I know where we can go.

- Thank you. - Wow, this smells amazing.

- What is it? - Um...

Who cares? They have wine.

Right.

That's...

You know, I've always felt more comfortable with the cheap stuff.

- You know? - Yeah?

Well, here, I'll drink to that.

Cheap stuff.

Cheap stuff.

You know, I never even had Indian food until a few months ago.

How is that possible?

Well, my hometown in Vermont had about 400 people,

so the most ethnic food it offered was French fries.

So that's why you, uh, came to New York? For the... for the food?

Uh, no.

Although, if I knew places like this existed,

I'd have left Vermont ages ago.

- You see, that's why I love this city. - Hmm?

I've lived here my whole life, and...

the place never stops unfolding new secrets.

Hmm.

Yeah, you know...

despite the crime,

and the darkness,

every once in a while, New York makes me feel...

Like, safe?

- Yes, is that weird? - Well...

- Huh. - I get it.

I wish you could see this place.

I can, if you describe it to me.

So, anyways, my favorite part...

is the ceiling.

So, it's literally dripping with thousands of lights.

They're shaped like chili peppers...

which sounds really tacky, I know, but it's, um, it's not.

Just...

It's magic.

This is me.

Are you sure you don't...

live two more blocks?

- Maybe three? - I wish.

We could sit.

Yeah.

All right, I'm gonna kiss ya.

You could come up...

if you like.

I would love to.

But you won't.

Not tonight.

- It's okay. - Can I...

Can I tell you why?

Because I have this...

incredible ability to bring...

disaster to the best things in my life and tonight has been perfect.

Don't you think?

Yes.

And if I stop now, then I get to keep this one perfect night.

And also have the chance of keeping it going tomorrow.

And the day after...

And the day after that...

And the...

Exactly.

Then I guess it's good night...

Mr. Murdock.

Good night, Ms. Page.

Fix me up, man? Fix me up.

I know who you are, man! I know who you are!

How much you got, man? How much you got?

Oh, Jesus Christ.

When I get out of this...

Oh, I'll remember your faces.

Every single bit of them...

- I will hunt you! - Aw...

When you get out?

Where did you find him?

Monte Carlo. I wasn't lying.

He's been going by an alias for years now.

Al Marino.

An ugly name for an ugly man.

Oh, you're dead.

Both of ya!

Couple of kids playing house!

Hey!

Watch your tongue.

While it's still attached.

He tried to hide. Went underground.

But the scum always rises.

Al just couldn't stay anonymous.

He had to spend his blood money.

Make a splash.

Be the big man.

You made it easy for me.

Eat shit.

Want me to hit you again?

Well, I won't.

But he will.

I don't know him from Christ, but one look and I can tell.

Pretty boy ain't got it in him.

You don't remember me?

You killed my father.

Well, I hate to break it to you, son...

but I killed a lot of guys' dads.

Then let me help you.

He hit hard.

Like this.

You call that hard?

Let it out.

Let it out.

Okay? Whatever's inside you.

Do it for your father, Matthew.

Do it for us.

Come on.

"Matthew"?

You're Battlin' Jack's boy!

Oh, you amateur.

Now I know your name.

Nothing'll stop me from bloodying the street with your corpse.

Just like I did to your old man!

Yes.

End it.

End it now.

- What? - Keep going.

No, that's, uh...

- No, that's all I got. - No...

He knows your name.

Cut his throat.

Kill him.

What?

Kill him.

I can't do that.

We can do anything together.

Remember?

No, I can't.

I thought you understood me.

Yeah, I thought I did, too.

We need to call the police.

- 911, what is your emergency? - Um...

Yes, I'd like to report the location of a wanted felon.

The name is Roscoe Sweeney.

What is the address?

See? You missed me, too.

Did you have a nice dinner?

Elektra, I came here to ask you a question,

and I'd like for you to answer it.

Why did you take me to that mansion?

That's your question?

For fun.

For fun?

That's fun for you?

To try to push me into killing a man?

Oh...

I didn't push you into anything.

And you didn't kill anyone.

- But you wanted to. - No, I didn't.

Don't do that, don't... Not now, don't...

You act like you have some window into my soul,

but you don't, and you never have.

There was always this glorious darkness inside you.

No.

That's why I took you to Roscoe Sweeney's.

And, yes.

That's why I loved you.

That's why you loved me, too.

Don't deny what we have.

Please.

You think that's what love is?

Someone... someone's coming.

Mmm-hmm.

The elevator's moving...

There's...

There's a silencer in the lobby.

Who is it, Elektra?

If I had to guess, Yakuza.

No.

No, that's impossible. I took care of the Yakuza.

Clearly, you didn't. Hold my gloves?

Today, at the Yakatomi Building, I infiltrated Asano,

the Japanese branch of Roxxon,

and I planted a little bug to crash their system.

Yeah, I heard it.

You knew they'd come for you?

Well, I knew they'd come here.

This building isn't in my name. I'm no amateur.

Hold on a second, did you know I'd come?

My confidence was high.

You planned this.

Everything you said in the apartment, it's just lies.

You don't mean it, you're not sorry...

It's just manipulation with you.

- It's the same thing... - No!

Over and over again, you just manipulate!

Matthew!

- I told you, I know you. - You don't.

I've always known you.

- Then, and now. - No, you don't know me.

So, now, you tell me.

- You can handle them yourself. - Do I need to push you this time?

Sync and corrections by explosiveskull Resync by GoldenBeard www.addic7ed.com